Monday, April 03, 2006

Dolores Calls in Two Favors

I came home Saturday evening to what is now a familiar sound: Dolores shouting back at "The McLaughlin Group" on Channel 11, and occasionally throwing popcorn at Pat Buchanan.

There's no speaking to her while the show is on, so I headed into the kitchen to fix myself a long, tall chocolate milk (tip: use a martini shaker–it's fab) and let my teeth unclench. We had "other duties as assigned this weekend," and I was wound up like a violin string braced for Mahler.

"So," came a voice from the living room, "Don't say hello or anything."

"You always hiss at me when I do," I said.

"Today is different. I got you something. And I'm not dragging it in there."

The last time Dolores said she "got me something," she meant she'd stuffed all my rather conservative wool suits into a sack for the charity shop and filled up my closet with sherbet-colored Italian silks with funny shoulders. I headed for the living room.

"What is it?" I said, trying to sound calm.

"Let's see if you can guess," she said, chucking a few unpopped kernels at Pat's wide-open mouth.

I was about to comment on the state of the rug when I spotted this next to the chair I usually sit in to knit.

"Who does that belong to?" I said, when I could find my voice.

"To you, if you want it," she said. "And you'd better, it was no picnic getting it here."

"You got me a spinning wheel!" I screamed.

"As ever," she said, "Your grasp of the obvious is astonishing."

"You got me a spinning wheel!"

"You're blocking the television," said Dolores.

I sat down and gave the treadle a tentative push with my foot. The drive wheel obligingly spun around, and the flyer gave off a pleasant little whirr. I felt my eyes filling up.

"Dolores...I just...how did you..."

"Spare me," she said. "I'm just sick of you disappearing into the bathroom with the Ashford catalogue for hours. That door is pretty thin."

"But..."

"It's used," she said. "And it's an older model. But it should work. Somebody in New Zealand owed me a favor. I'd tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you."

I pointed a large, fluffy pile of white in the corner.

"Is that...?"

"From my sister in Vermont," she said. "Rolag. Two pounds. She owed me a favor, too. Just watch out for the split ends. The way Olive abuses that goddamn blow dryer you'd think it was 1978."

At that point, Eleanor Clift came on and every time I tried to speak Dolores just raised a hoof in my direction. So I sat down, and pulled out the corriedale/montadale from Susan that I'd been using on the spindle, and I spun.

First Fiber

All the practice on the spindle seems to have been a good idea. I wouldn't expose my spindle-made yarn to public view (one has one's little vanities), but the making of it did give me a visceral experience of the spinning process. I'm glad it's how I began, much as I'm glad I began making photographs with a relatively simple camera. A limited mechanism forces you to learn by making nothing easy for you. Your hands and eyes and mind must engage, because otherwise nothing happens. For me, in any case, this is and always has been the way to go.

The first thing I had to test for myself is whether Margeurite's spinning song from Faust, "Il était un roi de Thulé," really works to keep you treadling evenly. It does. I'll have to test the spinning song from Der Fliegende Höllander later, as my German is far from what it ought to be.

There were jerks and epithets at first, but things are now spinning smoothly and I made this:

According to all my written authorities, it's not bad. Reasonable consistency, doesn't snarl up in the orifice, doesn't pull apart. Upon close examination, even Dolores conceded that it "doesn't completely suck nine kinds of ass."

Just when we're all getting concerned about Dolores taking advantage of your kind and gentle nature, she goes and does this. That girl sure likes to keep us guessing, doesn't she? Classy move there, D. As soon as I have an alcoholic beverage in my hand this evening, I shall toast you appropriately.

There you go. From here on out, it'll be the whrrr, whrrr, whrrr coming from your living room. Congratulations on the Traditional addition to your household. From another Traditional user, I can vouch for years of happy spinning.

Way cool, Franklin! Congrats! I have to say, between you and two friends who also spin, I have been inspired to pick this up and learn. I have my first drop spindle and roving on it's way in the mail as we speak. I have to agree, I think when you take on a new skill, it's good to start with the simpler ways and work your way up. You know, that Dolores, despite her tough facade, is probably an old softy deep down under all that wool. Just don't let on that you are onto that. She'd probably get pretty pissed at that getting out there. ;-) The new spun yarn looks great so far!

O.M.G Mum is crying ..she always ewe Dolores had a heart of gold .You so deserve it Franklin..please ask Dolores to throw much harder things at Pat ..only in person not at your T.V .If she played it right what conspiracy nut is gonna say "a sheep did it"

Actually, this is more for Ted. I found that getting a spinning wheel actually made me want to do more on my drop spindle. Go figure. I like to bring some spinning with me and, well, can't do that with my wheel. ;)

I'm also finding that improving my skills on one results in improvement on the other. A big thank you goes to YOU, Ted, for your instructional material on your blog!

Have you been to his blog yet, Franklin? I'm embarrassed to admit that it never occurred to me to predraft roving until I read Ted's descriptions.

Congratulations and welcome to the addictive world of spinning! It took me three months to spin anything as nice as your first effort. BTW, there's also a good spinning song in Gilbert & Sullivan's "Yeomen of the Guard" Act I, sung by the Alto lead - I forget the character's name.

Hm, weird, I dreamed about spinning last night. Last time I read the Harlot before sleep. But that's a tangent from what I wanted to say, which is, you'll probably want to avoid spinning to the Group... I tend to find myself fucking up lace patterns beyond belief, throwing down needles and yelling at my sweetie during the program. Which I love. The program, not the me yelling part.

A comment at the end of today's entry really caught me off guard. What kind of orifice do you have to stuff yarn into? I'll be puzzling over that the rest of the day. One learns so much on the Internet.

Funny you should mention the Flying Hollandaise. I was listenting to that over the weekend and fondly recalling the evening when you and I saw it together. I'm kinda glad Ms D wasn't there that night. During the spinning song she probably would have been saying "they're doing it all wrong" the whole time.

Now that you have a spinning wheel, and your parents live in Central Indiana, there's no reason preventing you from attending the Putnam County Fleece Fair this Saturday in Greencastle, Indiana. Lots of fleece, roving, fleece, fiber animals, fleece, yarns, patterns, books, tools and, uh, fleece.

Besides, Dolores needs to have your apartment to herself this weekend. (You might want to box up the breakables.)

I don't know whether to worry along with Ted (although the wheel didn't make me forsake my spindles, but I had rockin' Bosworth spindles, which no one should ever forsake), die laughing, or congratulate you on wheel plus beautiful job done.

So, you think Dolores is warming up to you!?! I think she has someehing hidden under her fleece. I don't think she will let you forget this one! In the meantime, take advantage of it and enjoy; congratulations. The spinning looks great.

Congratulations on that beautiful gift! Rumor has it around here that my own pet sheep may be giving me one for my birthday at the end of the month. (Ironically, my sheep asks for chocolate milk when my partner and I are drinking martinis.) Keep spinning such lovely yarn so you can teach all of us newbies!

Congratulations, bubbie! Take heart, yours is a little younger than my circa 1975 Ashford Traditional, but I get the impression they're like old Singer sewing machines: it's harder to get it NOT to work. Do have fun!

A very nice style for you, Franklin, classical, but streamlined, with none of the turnings and folderols you see on a lot of wheels. The only fancy style of wheel that I really covet is the French frame wheel--very elegant. Every so often I go to the French eBay site and search for "rouet," just to look at them

Well, Dolores can be a nice sheep when she wants to be. Wow. As for shearing, I imagine she might want a haircut when it's 98F outside...but she'll probably go to some expensive stylist who owes her a favor so she'll end up looking beautiful. If you're lucky she'll let you have the wool.

My mum is thinking about getting me a wheel for my birthday or Christmas. I think her plan is for me to keep her in yarn... but I'm quit excited about it. You are such a fortunate soul. Please give Delores a back rub. I'm sure she would appreciate it.

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